


I Could Sing

by MooseFeels



Series: Turn Me On [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They enter the final month of Castiel's pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The house finishes a month before the end.

Castiel finally picked up some weight. With Dean around to make sure he’s eating, his belly popped at about month six. He looks beautiful- heavy and round and fertile and flushed. Of course, his back hurts and his feet are swollen and he’s hot, constantly, but it looks increasingly like they’re out of the woods. Like everything will be okay.

It also means he’s useless as they start moving in.

He can unload the dishes for about twenty minutes until his back aches so badly he can’t stretch any more. He can fold clothes until his hands ache from the water retention. And then he sits, irritated, until Dean comes back into the house with boxes.

He kisses the top of Castiel’s head as he walks by. “Hey, beautiful,” he says.

“Don’t give me that,” Castiel replies, grumpily. “You did this to me.”

Dean smiles like the little boy he is, deep down, and drops the box off in their spacious bedroom. Their new bedroom.

The house looks both empty and full. They don’t have much furniture- most of it was sold to get the rest of the house built- but they do have books and movies (but no tv to watch them with) and clothes.

Castiel’s hands rest on top of his full belly and he pouts.

Dean comes back through, sweaty and smelly. He smells like both the cedar of the house and the woodiness of his sweat. He smells masculine and delicious. It turns Castiel on a bit, not that he needed more of that.

Doctor Shurley told him that this was normal- that being horny in the last trimester happened to a lot of people and that he would probably want to masturbate or be sexual more often. This can’t be normal, though. This is worse than heat. At least in his heats, he can move and twist and writhe. He can fuck and let Dean fuck him. He can be sexy.

Castiel can’t be sexy like this, much less sexual.

He sighs and steps from the living room to the back porch that they have now. He looks out over the woods, becoming fragrant and alive in the late spring, early summer. It’s green and lush, but still a bit chilly, so far North that the heat won’t really come until August.

He feels so strange. He feels everything inside of him is striving and balancing and bending and shaking, fit to burst. He looks out on the woods and he sees, not too distant, a doe.

She is frozen in her eye contact with Castiel, ears alert. He watches her for a long moment, until Dean calls, “Baby, where’d you go?”

She dashes off.

Castiel heads back inside.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean wipes the sweat from his brow and smiles at Castiel. “Hey, where do you think we should put the bookcases? Sam is coming with them and the last of the boxes in the truck.”

Castiel puffs and waddles his way over to Dean, and he huffs, “I don’t know. I won’t be able to reach any of them, no matter where you put them.”

He’s huge- his belly came through a couple of months ago and he’s so sexy and beautiful like this. He looks like a peach- pink and round and soft and beautiful. He smells like one a little bit, too.

Dean smiles a little wider. “Yeah, but in four months you’ll be going for The Moosewood Cookbook and you’ll yell at me because I put the tall bookcase in the wrong room,” he answers.

Castiel throws his hands in the air, frustrated, and says, ‘I don’t care, okay? I don’t!”

There’s the hot smell of his anger, and Dean frowns. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks. “You’ve seemed off all day.”

His hands drift from his huge stomach to his hips to the small of his back. He throws them into the air again. “I hate it!” he shouts. “I hate- I hate my body like this, I hate it! I look like a whale.” He howls and sings in an imitation of whalesong. The hotness of his scent drifts off.

“Baby,” Dean says, “no, you’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous.” He holds Castiel’s hands, and Castiel thrashes in the hold.

“You did this to me!” he shouts. “I look awful and you did this to me!” He stops thrashing and just starts shaking, and then he starts crying. “Everything- all of the feelings,” he sobs. “There was a deer in the backyard. She was beautiful.” He starts crying in earnest.

“Come on,” Dean murmurs. “Come on, I want you to come with me.”

He guides Castiel gently to the bathroom and turns on a set of lights. They’re low- it’s a little dim.

Dean holds Castiel in front of the mirror for a long, long time, Castiel’s back to the glass. He leans against Dean, soft and sweet-smelling. His green t-shirt is soft under Dean’s hands.

“Baby, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. I pray god you know that. But I’d like you to trust me, to just believe me, okay? I want you to turn around and see me like I see you. Please,” he whispers into Castiel’s ear.

Castiel nods, slowly, and he waits for another long moment. He lets out a shuddering breath and he turns, slowly, around. His eyes are red from crying and his nose is running. He sniffles and wipes it with the back of his hand. His tears smell salty.

Dean kisses into the hollow of Castiel’s neck, nuzzles into it. Bites at it, sucks at it and kisses it. Castiel huffs with pleasure.

“Oh, Dean,” he murmurs. “Oh, wanted- wanted for weeks.”

Dean lets his hands wander over Castiel’s body and belly and chest. He slips his hand under Castiel’s shirt, and his skin is hot on his hands. The texture of his skin is different. There are the stretch-mark places near his hips where the skin feels too thin and loose. And there is the part over the mound of the stomach, where his belly button sticks out that’s tight and smooth and hard and almost hollow-like.

Castiel huffs again. Panting, pouting, red-faced and intense.

“Dean,” Castiel whines. “Dean, this is- Dean, something-”

Dean knows what he’s going to say before it comes out of his mouth.

Something’s wrong.

Castiel’s huff turns pained. “Dean, call the doctor, call the- call the doctor- call-”

His water has broken.

He’s a month early, and his water has broken.

 


End file.
